The clergy is the First Estate. The nobles are the Second.
The common people are the Third; and the mainstream press is the Fourth Estate.
What, then, is the Fifth Estate?

The Fifth Estate represents citizen journalists. They’re the
people who post a story that isn’t told to sell papers. They’re the extensions
of the Fourth Estate, holding the four pillars of society accountable for their
actions via digital democracy. Anyone can Tweet dissent nowadays and blogs, for
better or for worse, tell stories without liability to publishers and
shareholders.

The power of the Fifth Estate arguably exploded with the
launch of WikiLeaks, an activist web site founded by Julian Assange that sought
to be a platform for accountability while granting anonymity to the
whistleblowers who shared vital information. WikiLeaks, like virtually any
channel that grants a voice to those not afforded one previously, is a
controversial hot topic of the boundaries of ethics, security, free speech, and
democracy. WikiLeaks posted its most controversial hits in 2010 with the
publication of classified information leaked by Army Specialist Bradley Manning
(now Chelsea Manning) that proved both embarrassing and damaging for the
American government. The Manning leaks provide the most succinct example of how
a release of information can reveal a Government’s wrongdoing (even criminal
actions) in war, but said release can also expose people who are acting in the
service of the greater good. A transparent archive of names and facts might not
trump an individual’s right to privacy and, more important, security.

Manning’s leaked documents frame Bill Condon’s The Fifth Estate as it dramatizes the
rise of WikiLeaks under the control of Julian Assange. Assange is played by
Benedict Cumberbatch in a towering performance. Cumberbatch’s Assange is a man
of self-aware bravado. Slightly paranoid and considerably maniacal, Cumberbatch
plays Assange as a charismatic leader to usher in the new age of digital
accountability. He commands the screen in orations that verge upon
Shakespearean soliloquys as Assange shares the philosophy behind WikiLeaks in
various public appearances, and notes the extent to which the site can harness
the power of free speech.Assange is both a visionary and a madman.

The Fifth Estate
unfolds like a facsimile of David Fincher’s 2010 hit The Social Network, which dramatizes the creation of Facebook and captures
the zeitgeist of social media savvyness that defines a generation. The form of
filmmaking seems to have become a meme. Assange, like Zuckerberg, is a
self-serving zealot who sells out his friends and beliefs for control and
power. The Fifth Estate is more of
the same as it follows The Social Network’s
dramatization of current events by giving an overview of the creation of the
platform and the human drama that fuelled it. The Eduardo Savarin to
Cumberbatch’s Mark Zuckerberg is Assange’s former right hand man, Daniel Domscheit-Berg,
played by Daniel Brühl (Rush). Assange
and Berg are two opposing forces as Cumberbatch’s large Assange butts heads
with Brühl’s modest and reserved Berg.

The Fifth Estate chronicles
a compelling profile of the rise of WikiLeaks by focussing primarily on the
efforts of Assange and Berg to build their network from a minimal operation.
The film is driven largely by the strengths of its performances as the two leads
are joined by a strong ensemble cast of international actors that includes
Alicia Vikander (Anna Karenina),
David Thewlis (The Lady), Dan Stevens
(“Downton Abbey”), Carice Van Houten (Jackie),
Stanley Tucci (Julie & Julia),
and the always reliable Laura Linney (Kinsey).
The Fifth Estate has all the makings
for a provocative night at the movies: a stacked cast, a timely story, and a
director with string of hits both critical (Gods
and Monsters, Kinsey, Dreamgirls) and commercial (the last two
Twilight films). Bill Condon
saturates The Fifth Estate in the
technological sublime, as each frame of the film looks as sleek and
contemporary as an Apple product. The film certainly has a firm grasp of the
historical and cultural significance of its subject.

However, like a glossy twelve-page spread in a periodical—The Fifth Estate is certainly a slick
production—the film is soft journalism. There’s no real reason to see The Fifth Estate if one is
even only moderately well-versed in the story of WikiLeaks and Julian Assange. The
film offers little new information and the narrative it provides probes its
subject with little depth or substance, aside from its portrayal of the man
behind the project. The film ironically fails to offer the same immediacy that
the characters in the film so feverishly note. The Fifth Estate is a fine drama that takes place solely in the
present, but the story on which it is based simply hasn’t reached an endpoint,
so there’s little one can do to draw conclusions. The film can only report and
speculate. This makes for a decent magazine feature, although one finds the
formula lacking in a feature film.

The Fifth Estate
also feels too safe for a film depicting such a hot-button topic. The
screenplay by Josh Singer is painstakingly focused on rhetoric, rather than
argument, for The Fifth Estate says a
lot without actually saying anything. It’s too objective for its own good, as
it covers all players in the story with more-or-less equal favour and passes
little judgement. Most ironic, however, is how meekly the film portrays members
of the American government. The politicos played by Linney and Tucci are
well-intentioned, well-mannered, and pragmatic folks. The Fifth Estate raises a glass of fine Single Malt to toast their
service, but it ignores the implications behind the actions that WikiLeaks
sought to reveal in the act of publishing classified documents. American
politics that perpetuate the gross acts revealed in The Fifth Estate get off easy; however, the purpose of a Fifth
Estate is to ask the questions that others do not. The film is good
entertainment, but it poses a glaringly missed opportunity to further the
demand for accountability that has been muddled by Assange’s supposed thirst
for power and control.

There’s only one real revelation in The Fifth Estate and that is Benedict Cumberbatch’s bravura performance
as the maniacal Assange. The extent to which Cumberbatch immerses himself fully
in the role is doubly evident thanks to his recent stint as the man of the hour
at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival, for which The Fifth Estate served as the Opening
Night Gala, appearing in festival hits such as August: Osage County and 12
Years a Slave. (He also appeared in this year’s Star Trek into Darkness.) That Cumberbatch is a revelation is
hardly a new discovery, though: we always knew the actor was good, but it
wasn’t until The Fifth Estate that a
wide audience could see how captivating he could be in a meaty lead role. The
same goes for Brühl, who provides a worthy counterpoint to his performance as
the driven Niki Lauda in Rush.
Cumberbatch and Brühl create opposing forces that are as yin and yang as the
contrast between Assange’s much talked about white hair and Berg’s dark locks.

The film takes its contrasting leads and presents two
dissimilar options to the audience, thus inviting viewers to assume the role of
the Fifth Estate as they decide for themselves whether Assange or Berg
represents the more desirable philosophy. One must choose between complete
open-access to information or digital democracy disseminated with a moral
filter. Assange becomes the antagonist by the film’s end, but The Fifth Estate gives him the final
word and reminds audiences that only time will judge the man and his actions.
The underlying problem of The Fifth
Estate, however, is that much of the larger questions surrounding WikiLeaks
and Assange are philosophically self-evident before one sees the film. Perhaps this
sense is a product of the premature timeliness of The Fifth Estate: it’s simply too soon to feel the repercussions of
WikiLeaks and the revolution that Assange is content to attribute to himself.
Not enough time has passed for The Fifth
Estate to be anything but smartly composed regurgitated reportage. The Fifth Estate is thus both timely cinema
and old news.